


New Year, New Us

by waywardriot



Series: Vanven Week 2019 [7]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, New Year's Kiss, VanVen Week (Kingdom Hearts)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21990466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardriot/pseuds/waywardriot
Summary: A wrench is thrown in Vanitas's plan to stay home for New Year's Eve in the form of Ventus; however, the holiday isn't as bad as it seems when they're together.Vanven Week Day 7: Rebirth
Relationships: Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: Vanven Week 2019 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576738
Comments: 11
Kudos: 52





	New Year, New Us

**Author's Note:**

> day 7!! today's prompt gave me a lot of trouble, so it doesn't stick to the prompt super well. i just wanted to do something for new year's since the word rebirth made me think of that!
> 
> if this is a hot mess, it's because i started it at midnight last night and finished it all in the span of like 4 hours. here we go!
> 
> thank you everyone for sticking around for this week and for all the wonderful feedback :)

For the fourth time that hour, Vanitas looks at his phone screen, where Ventus’s contact is popping up because he is calling him, yes, for the fourth time. With Ventus as predictable as always, Vanitas knows exactly what he wants even without talking to him.

He probably shouldn’t answer because it’ll most likely just make Ventus bother him more, but he’s fucking tired of his phone ringing and this shit has to stop _somewhere_. “The answer is no, Ventus,” he says the instant he picks up the phone, tucking it between his head and his shoulder as he continues to play his video game with the intention of barely paying attention to the call.

_“You don’t even know what I want!”_ Ventus whines from the other end of the phone. There’s a rustling sound in the background that Vanitas takes as Ventus flopping over onto his bed in frustration. 

“You want me,” Vanitas guesses, then he pauses to kill an enemy, “to come over for New Year’s.”

_“Well—maybe! At least hear me out!”_

Totally called him out. “No,” Vanitas replies flatly. Perhaps the best strategy is to be short with his answers until Ventus either gets mad and gives up or gets frustrated and gives up.

Ventus huffs out a sigh, and Vanitas can almost hear him rolling his eyes. _“Pleeeease? Come on, I’m the only one home, and I don’t want to be alone tonight. That’s sad!”_

“I’m busy.”

_“Well, what are you doing?”_

“None of your business.”

Ventus laughs over the line, and Vanitas hates that he can perfectly see his stupid smile in his mind’s eye. _“That means you aren’t doing anything. I bet you’re gonna do the exact same thing you do every night over breaks and play video games until 5AM.”_

Vanitas silently glares at his humming PS4, pauses his game, and sighs. “No. I’m doing something with Sora,” he lies, despite the fact that Sora left about half an hour ago after harassing Vanitas about going out for two hours straight. Sometimes his brother and Ventus are truly too alike. 

_“Oh, please,”_ Ventus scoffs, definitely rolling his eyes again, _“I know for a fact that Sora is going out with Roxas to some new club tonight, and I know even better that you’d rather be caught dead than go there.”_

Vanitas mentally curses himself for having found a best friend who knows him too well and is too smart for his own good—only when it doesn’t count, like when he needs to bother Vanitas rather than when he needs to pass his accounting class. Giving an aggrieved sigh, he asks, “Why don’t you go out with them and everyone else, then?”

_“I think I’m getting sick...”_ Ah, that explains the slightly nasally tone Vanitas thought he detected in Ventus’s voice. _“So I really don’t feel good enough to go out. Everyone else is busy—yes, I checked because I knew you’d say no—and I’m gonna get sad here all alone because I know Sora is going to send me a Snapchat of the club every fifteen minutes.”_

Although rare for him (and only because it’s Ventus), Vanitas feels a bit of sympathy for him. He doesn’t like going out and doing things most of the time, but there have been times when he’s felt a little forlorn because of Sora’s propensity to document everything he’s doing at any given time and send it out to his closest friends—which means Vanitas gets doubly fucked over, being Sora’s brother.

However, it isn’t sympathetic enough to make him give up on his night alone. “I said no, Ventus. Happy New Year.”

He takes the phone away from his ear to hang it up but stops when he hears a small _‘wait!’_ from Ventus’s end of the phone. “What?” he groans, reluctantly holding it up to his head once again.

_“Come on. I’ll owe you one.”_ Vanitas remains silent, and Ventus sighs. _“I’ll owe you_ two.” 

Vanitas stares at the flickering screen of his television ruefully and turns it off before scrubbing a hand down his face. “God, fine. Stop whining.”

_“I’m not whining. I’m asking. But thank you,”_ Ventus replies. 

Unseen from him, Vanitas makes a face to himself, sickened by the fact that he can hear the sheer tenderness in Ventus’s voice, and also angry about the fact that he wishes it were directed towards him in a different context.

_“Anyways! I’m gonna order some food and take a shower before you get here. Text me when you leave! Bye!”_ Ventus chirps, hanging up the phone before Vanitas can even breathe again. 

Tossing his phone aside, Vanitas flops backwards on the bed and stares at the ceiling, limbs sprawled out. Why is Ventus so good at convincing him?

Oh, yeah—because Vanitas is hopelessly infatuated and quite possibly the biggest idiot in the world. 

There’s nothing he can do to erase that, though, so he groans and forces himself to get up and get ready for a night of holiday ‘fun’.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Forty-five minutes later, Vanitas is sitting in his car in Ventus’s driveway, staring at his house and debating on whether or not to just leave and pretend he never showed up and then ignore Ventus’s calls for the next 17 hours. Unfortunately, before he can do that Ventus comes out of his house and perks up the moment he sees Vanitas—how can he escape that? _‘Technically I can still run,’_ he thinks to himself, but that plan is also ruined when Ventus comes up to his car and yanks open the door overenthusiastically. 

“Hey! Come on in! It’s cold!” Ventus says, a little puff of breath coming out of his mouth as he speaks.

“Then why’d you come outside, idiot? You’re gonna make your stupid cold or whatever worse,” Vanitas sighs, shoving Ventus out of the way as he gets out of his car and heads inside his house without waiting for him.

“I’m not _that_ sick. I just got excited and wanted to see if you were here yet!” Ventus says from where he’s trailing behind him. “The food just got here a few minutes ago, actually, so we’re good to go.”

Vanitas looks over to the coffee table that Ventus is gesturing at which is covered in a number of Chinese takeout containers that is probably absurd (but they’re surely going to eat it all anyways). “Oh, you were that asshole who ordered food in on a holiday?” Vanitas snarks as he walks over and opens several of the containers to see what was there; Ventus has, of course, gotten his favorite, so he can’t complain about that.

“Hey! Like you weren’t going to order in, too!” Ventus huffs, making Vanitas laugh in return.

“Yeah, but I _am_ an asshole. You’re too nice for your own good.”

Ventus laughs back at that in agreement and waves a dismissive hand at Vanitas. Grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge, he throws one at Vanitas—which he thankfully catches, otherwise he’d be made fun of—and then sits down on the couch. “I thought we could just play some games and watch some movies and stuff.”

Vanitas somewhat gratefully notes that this is pretty much nothing different than what he’d be doing at home. Despite Ventus insisting it would just be them, he did have the worry that he’d be surprised by an impromptu New Year’s party or even just any other people at all. If nothing else, at least Ventus is willing to accommodate for him; there are worse best friends to have.

There are also worse people to have crushes on.

“Thank fuck,” Vanitas responds as he sits down and scoops up a container of food at random. “We can turn on the news when it gets towards midnight,” he begrudgingly adds because while he doesn’t care about that sort of New Year’s Eve nonsense, he knows that Ventus likes to see the flashy ball dropped on the program they run every year. 

Ventus nods eagerly and pulls up Netflix on the television, idly scrolling through movies. “So, are you excited for the new year? It’s a new decade, too—pretty exciting,” he hums. 

“Ventus, you _know_ what I think about this idiotic tradition,” Vanitas says, jabbing his chopsticks in Ventus’s direction.

“Oh, god,” Ventus mumbles under his breath, but Vanitas simply flips him off and ignores him.

“The date means absolute shit to the natural order,” he starts, shoving a bite of noodles in his mouth, “Nature doesn’t give a shit about the difference between December 31st and January 1st. Things will continue on exactly the same as yesterday from today, so really—”

Ventus cuts him off with an over-exaggerated, prolonged groan. “First of all, _stop_ talking with your mouth full, and second of all—everyone knows it doesn’t matter to nature! It’s just symbolic. A fresh start, a rebirth, a chance to do things differently...”

“Bull—shit,” Vanitas replies, snapping his chopsticks at Ventus to emphasize each syllable. “There are no do-overs in life. If you want a fresh start, then reincarnate. This is just more capitalist bullshit and another excuse for people to get blackout drunk and make bad decisions. No one even keeps their resolutions.”

By the time he’s finished speaking, Ventus is mocking him, miming out his words by pinching his chopsticks open and closed. “Okay, weirdo. Do you seriously not have a single resolution? Just _one_ thing you want to achieve in the next year?”

Vanitas puts a contemplative look on his face and taps his chin with a finger as he pretends to think. “Well, there is one…” Ventus raises an eyebrow and looks at him expectantly. “To not have a New Year’s resolution. Oops! Already failed.”

There isn’t a moment of hesitation before Ventus socks him in the arm and gives him one of his trademark _looks_. “Real funny, Vanitas. That’s not how it works.”

“Says who?” Vanitas asks, snickering at how personally offended Ventus is by this; it’s almost cute, but unfortunately, so are most things Ventus does. “Okay, well, what’s your resolution?”

Ventus perks up as if he had been waiting for Vanitas to ask and swallows down his bite of food. “I have more than one, of course. Buuut I want a big one to sort of mark off the start of a new decade. I’m not sure yet, but… something like taking a real risk. I’ll figure it out as I go.”

“Very pragmatic,” Vanitas says solemnly, which earns him another punch in the arm because of course Ventus can pick up on the sarcasm. “Let me know when you—” 

Ventus cuts him off once more by way of shoving a chopstick-ful of orange chicken against his lips. “Try this. It’s good today.”

Without even thinking about it, Vanitas takes a bite, and then he glares at Ventus as he chews, annoyed that had actually worked to get him to shut up. “Fuck you,” he says, mouth intentionally full just to gross Ventus out.

Ventus just waves his hand at him dismissively, and then they finally start a movie at random and begin to watch it as they eat with minimal continued squabbling. 

They manage to eventually chew their way through the excessive amount of food Ventus ordered in record time, laughing and chatting over the movie to make fun of it as they always do. At one point it turns into them nearly wrestling, so they decide to battle it out through video games instead of trashing Ventus’s living room. 

If anyone asked, Vanitas would have to admit that this isn’t as bad as he thought; it would be undeniably worse if it were with anyone but Ventus, but it’s his best friend so it’s all fine. 

Thankfully, no one has asked, so Vanitas doesn’t have to say that. 

Before he knows it, it’s a quarter ‘til midnight and Ventus shuts off their game despite his protests. “You promised!” Ventus reminds him, sing-songing. “Come on. We can go back to video games afterwards. I just want to remember the first few moments of the decade!”

“You are such a sap,” Vanitas groans, draping himself down the length of the couch and scowling at the television. 

Ventus waves a dismissive hand as he chooses a news program that’s streaming the party in the nearest big city. It’s as it is every year, some newscaster occasionally coming into frame and talking while people yell and scream in the background and loud, obnoxious music plays over the speakers. 

“I can’t believe this is the kind of thing you like. How are we friends?” Vanitas complains loudly. 

Ventus turns up the television in response and gives Vanitas an innocent smile. After standing up and stretching, he beckons Vanitas with both his hands held out to him, bouncing on his heels, and chirps, “Dance with me! If I can’t go out to a party, we can do this much.”

“ _You_ can do this much. I don’t dance.” Vanitas sinks down further on the couch as if he’s determined to root himself there and looks down to his phone in an attempt to ignore Ventus and his whining.

“Oh, come on. Humor me!” Ventus insists. Before Vanitas can reply, Ventus has pulled his phone out of his hand, tossed it to the side, and yanked him up by both his hands.

Trying to escape him, Vanitas shakes his hands and does his best to pull away from him and go back to his phone. “Ventus!”

“Vanitas!” Ventus mocks in return, and his grip just grows tighter as he pulls them into an empty part of the room where they won’t run into anything as they dance. “It’s just me. No one else will see you.”

Something about the way he says _‘it’s just me’_ makes Vanitas’s stomach twist in an embarrassing way, and he curses himself for having a best friend who’s evil and also for having a crush on that same best friend. “You owe me three now,” he mutters, cheeks flushing, and Ventus just laughs and starts to jump around a little, still holding on to his hands.

At first Vanitas is unresponsive and stiff, but Ventus does his best to get him to dance. As much as he tries to have a bitter look on his face, it’s difficult to keep it up when Ventus has that endearingly bright smile on his face and is hopping to the beat of the current obnoxious pop song that’s blasting from the speakers. Really, it feels incredibly stupid, but Ventus has the horrible ability to make Vanitas do idiotic things.

He could never dance like Ventus does, the type of overenthusiastic stuff they do at clubs, but he’s compliant when Ventus directs them into a sloppy, exaggerated waltz stance. It’s easier to let loose and just spin their way around the room in movements that are nowhere even adjacent to a waltz, Ventus leading Vanitas with a grin. It’s immature and unbalanced—but it’s fun, so that’s what really matters.

The thing is… Vanitas can’t focus too hard on what they’re doing. He can’t focus on the fact that he’s technically holding Ventus’s hand or how small Ventus’s other hand feels on his ribs or how big his hand feels on Ventus’s ribs, almost like he could snap him if he wanted. Most of all, he really can’t focus on how close their faces are lest he die of embarrassment or say something entirely stupid that makes Ventus hate him. 

After all, this is just dancing, right? It’s New Year’s Eve, and they’re just having fun.

Well, he certainly tries to tell himself that, but for some reason, their dancing gradually calms down until they’re going so slow that he can’t deny that _something_ is happening. Vanitas has never slow danced with someone before, but he really doubts that it’s supposed to be with your best friend since you were 7 years old and he’s sure it shouldn’t be anywhere near this intimate. Their movements are in intense contrast to the loud song coming from the television, but it somehow feels like this is exactly how it’s supposed to be.

Half of him is screaming at himself to pull away before this ends up destroying his most fundamental friendship, but the other half is threatening him with self-flagellation if he dares break this moment so delicate that it’s resting on a porcelain edge.

If their friendship is ruined, he’ll never forgive himself—but if there’s _any_ chance that the boy he’s been pining for since he was thirteen and a quarter years old might feel something for him in return, then he can’t throw it away. Not now, not when Ventus is slowly moving his hand and sliding it up Vanitas’s chest to curl it over his shoulder.

This whole time, it’s been impossible for Vanitas to look at Ventus out of the fear that he might pass out, but he finally moves his eyes from the spot over Ventus’s shoulder they’ve been fixated on and looks to his face, his heart fluttering with nervousness like he’s still a stupid teenager.

Ventus, as literally always, looks incredibly endearing, his eyes directed towards the ground, almost like he’s too embarrassed to look at Vanitas as well. It’s possible that’s a bad sign, that Ventus wants to pull away because he thinks this has gone too far, but Vanitas trusts that Ventus will stop this if he wants to.

Vanitas absolutely can’t tear his eyes away from him because he can’t miss a single thing about this moment—he’ll curse himself forever for it if he does. He wants to memorize the nervous creases in Ventus’s face, the way his teeth are digging into his lower lip, the color of his skin as the television illuminates it with soft light. 

The more this goes on, the more Vanitas thinks that this just might be real. If not, then why would Ventus be sliding both his hands up to cup them behind his neck and shifting even closer, almost until their chests touch? Now, Vanitas may be oblivious and bad at interpreting emotions, but he’s not _that_ oblivious, not when he’s almost being felt up by an obviously flustered boy. 

Without even thinking about the ramifications of it, he lets his hands fall to Ventus’s waist delicately; it’s almost awkward how light his hold is, but it leaves room for either of them to pull away if they want to. 

It won’t be him, so he just really hopes Ventus doesn’t want to. 

After a tense silence on both ends of the program and Ventus’s living room, a bell erupts from the television along with louder yelling, and Vanitas glances sideways at it to watch the New Year’s ball’s final descent. “It’s 2020,” he murmurs, looking back to Ventus and curling his fingers against his waist. 

Ventus tips his chin up enough to look towards the screen as well, although he doesn’t actually turn his head and instead just moves his eyes, which just makes the space between their faces even less. “A new year. A new decade,” he replies softly, and for the first time since they started slow dancing, he directs his eyes to Vanitas’s, and Vanitas’s heart stops. “That’s even more of a fresh start.”

“So it is.”

When their lips meet, Vanitas isn’t even sure which one of them pushed forward first—perhaps it was him, perhaps it was Ventus, or perhaps it was the both of them at the same instant, perfectly in step. All he knows is that he and Ventus are kissing when they weren’t a moment before, his heart frozen in his chest in fear and anticipation.

If Vanitas thought the slow dancing was intimate, this is mind-blowing. Yeah, he’s dated and kissed other people before in an attempt to forget his years-long (presumably) unrequited crush, but it’s never been like _this._ This just feels like he’s come home in a way that’s almost embarrassing to him. Thank god Ventus can’t read his thoughts, or Vanitas would just leave his house right now and go start a new life in the woods out of shame.

It’s over all too soon, just a simple press of the lips that would be completely unremarkable if not for the fact that Vanitas has wanted this for nearly a decade. Thankfully it seems that Ventus is as unwilling to pull away as he is, so they just end up with their foreheads pressed together, sharing the same breath.

They remain silent for a minute like they’re soaking in the moment, not moving a muscle, until Vanitas decides to break the silence with a barely perceptible whisper. 

“I hope you aren’t contagious.”

Ventus pulls back just enough to give him an intensely disapproving look, and then he breaks out into adorable giggles. “You’re insufferable. Literally the worst.”

Vanitas snorts and gives Ventus a shit-eating grin. While that was definitely an abrupt way to break a lovely moment, he’s glad it eased the tension in the air and didn’t make Ventus actually angry. This is to be expected of him, of course. “You already knew that when you chose to kiss me,” he scoffs. 

“Oh, asshole. I hope you actually get sick,” Ventus retorts, making a face, and then he pulls Vanitas back in for another kiss.

Any oncoming smug laughter is stifled by Ventus’s lips, and Vanitas has already decided that this is definitely his favorite way for Ventus to shut him up; maybe he’ll have to be more annoying in the future.

There’s probably a decent chance he _will_ get sick from this, but even the threat of suffering for a few days isn’t enough to make him pull away—not when he’s making up for so much lost time. 

The kisses are mostly chaste and lazy, and they eventually pull back to rest their foreheads together once more. Vanitas breathes in the moment, still blanketed by the sense of ‘home’ it gives him, until Ventus speaks. 

“12:04AM and I’ve already fulfilled my resolution. The ball’s in your court, Vanitas.”

Vanitas closes his eyes and hums as he brings one hand up to cup Ventus’s cheek. While he’s a little irritated that he’s falling for this nonsense, he still answers, “I think… Maybe I’ll take you up on that chance to start over and do things differently—with you. For now, my New Year’s resolution is to kiss you more.”

Ventus simply smiles and laughs in answer, so Vanitas makes good on his words for as long as he wants.


End file.
